


Advance and Retreat

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are men of action. Lies do not become us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advance and Retreat

**Author's Note:**

> As always, undying thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) and [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/)**nolivingman** for the beta and encouragement.
> 
> Originally posted 2-12-06

“Mr. Hornblower.” Edrington smiled as Horatio alighted from the carriage, shifting his stance slightly as though to adjust to being on land again. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, Major my Lord.”

“Please,” His smile widened and took on a sardonic edge. “Just my Lord will suffice.” He laughed at Horatio’s insolent eyebrow. “Come. You must be hungry.”

“I am, my Lord.” He nodded a quick bow. “Thank you.” They walked into the main hallway, Edrington glancing over to see Horatio’s reactions. The carefully schooled face gave away nothing, the keen flash of brown dulled even as Horatio smiled. “You have a lovely home.”

“Homestead more than home, I fear, especially during the season when the rest of the family is away to London.” He guided Horatio into a small dining area. “However, it does allow some respite from the crowded conditions of family and military life.” He gestured to a seat then sank down at the head of the table. “You are, I think, a man who appreciates his privacy, Mr. Hornblower?”

“Indeed, my Lord, though there is little chance for it aboard one of His Majesty’s ships, even as the Captain.”

“I can imagine.” He rang a small bell and the nearby door opened, two servers entering carrying two laden trays. “I imagine you must be hungry after your long journey, and so have taken the liberty of having something prepared. Though our visit will not be a long one, I do hope that I’ll have something of a chance to give you a taste of the advantages of life on dry land.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, my Lord.” Horatio leaned back as a the server moved in, his eyes trained on Edrington. “I must confess to being a bit surprised by your invitation, my Lord.”

“How so?” Edrington nodded to the servers who quickly departed the room.

“Well, I had just put in to port and the invitation lay in wait for me.”

“Connections, Mr. Hornblower.”

“That is well understood, my Lord, though I admit to marveling at the quality of same.” Horatio lifted his wine glass and toasted Edrington. “It is a rare man who knows exactly how long a Captain can be away from his ship and extend an invitation for just that.”

“Then I shall admit that I was pleasantly surprised at your acceptance. From what I’ve heard and know of you, Mr. Hornblower, I imagine even the most rigorous of refitting would be hard put to dispossess you from your ship.”

“It was indicated to me that even a few days of your hospitality might not go amiss.”

“Admiral Pellew?”

“He can be,” Horatio paused to take a drink, his eyebrow raised tellingly, “most persuasive.”

“And damned annoying when he doesn’t get what he wants.” Edrington laughed. “Your Admiral is a fine man, Mr. Hornblower. He and Captain Sawyer were friends of my father’s.”

Horatio’s jaw tightened and he took another drink, averting his eyes from Edrington’s. “Your father is long gone, my Lord?”

“It has been many years, yes.”

Horatio contemplated his dinner for a long time, finally spearing a bite before lifting his eyes back to Edrington, something akin to amusement or defiance flashing in them. “And yet still you serve, my Lord? I would think that your duty to your land and family would supercede that of a purchased commission.”

Edrington raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his wine, a smile curving his lips. He watched as Horatio shifted slightly in his seat at the look, wary that his tongue had taken him too far. “My duty to the King cannot be subjugated to anything else, Mr. Hornblower, as I’m sure you feel of your own.” He let Horatio nod before continuing. “As it is, there are others in my family and in my employ who can do the work of Lord Edrington. There are a damned sight fewer who can surpass my competence as Major.”

“I apologize, my Lord, for my ill-spoken words.”

“Think nothing of it,” Edrington assured him in a tone that insinuated that Horatio should do nothing but think on it. “Your concern for my family’s continued fortunes is appreciated.” He speared another bite and chewed it thoughtfully, watching Horatio carefully as he ate. “But tell me, Mr. Hornblower, as you have been promoted in our long absence from one another, how does it feel to be Captain?”

“Quite overwhelming at times, if I may speak plainly, my Lord. My crew is quite capable, but I find that I have…” He shook his head. “I have had the fortune, or misfortune, in my career as to have had my name bandied around the fleet for the most minor of skirmishes.”

“Fame can be a dangerous thing. It has gone to many a man’s head.” Edrington got to his feet and walked over to the sideboard, gathering a crystal decanter and two glasses. “It has also turned to notoriety more than once.” He carefully didn’t meet Horatio’s eyes. “Shall we adjourn to the drawing room, Mr. Hornblower? I have a fine port with which to continue our chat.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” Horatio got to his feet and let Edrington wave him through the door. He waited, shifting slightly in his stance, until Edrington fell in step with him, leading through the softly lit hallways.

“Have you had problems with your men, then? In light of the circumstances of Kingston?”

“I was able to acquire several men from the Renown, my Lord. All was quickly set straight when questions arose.” They settled into the drawing room, Edrington pouring them each a tawny glass of port. Horatio closed his eyes and took the first drink, shuddering slightly as the aged liquor burned.

“Hmm.” Edrington took a small sip and sat across from Horatio, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back. “You had no dissenters?”

“Would you mutiny a Captain with the devil’s own luck and the shadow of a noose around his neck?” Horatio downed the rest of his drink and reached for the decanter, surprised when his hand came away empty.

“I fear, Mr. Hornblower,” Edrington grabbed the crystal around the slim neck and held it aloft, offering it in Horatio’s direction, “that you are somewhat inebriated.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Horatio nodded vaguely. “I am not used to fine spirits as this.”

“Indeed.” Edrington poured another measure into Horatio’s glass. “But you have nowhere to go and the night is still young.” He poured himself another glass and lifted it, saluting Horatio before taking a small sip. “Now, Mr. Hornblower, tell me of Lieutenant Kennedy.”

Horatio stiffened, his jaw tight and his eyes hard. “The only thing I can tell you, my Lord, is that Mr. Kennedy is dead and you do no respect to His Majesty by offering honors to Mr. Kennedy’s name.”

“And you do His Majesty the utmost respect by speaking such, Mr. Hornblower.” Edrington smiled slowly, his eyes caught on Horatio’s. “But I fear you do yourself a great disservice, Sir.” He got up from his seat and walked to the fire, one wrist held loosely in his other hand behind his back. “You forgot, Mr. Hornblower, that I had the privilege of serving with both yourself and Lieutenant Kennedy…”

”Sir.”

“And I know that he was a man of great honor and strong personal integrity. A man who would do anything for his friends.”

“I am not at liberty to discuss the matters of the Renown, Sir, as you well know. And if, by your insinuation, you ask after what has already been decided and settled, I fear I shall have to beg my leave of you.”

“I fear I have offended you, Mr. Hornblower, when no such offense was intended. I merely express regret on Mr. Kennedy’s loss. The man I knew was remarkable.”

“I will not discuss Mr. Kennedy with you, Sir. I…I apologize.” Horatio stood and set his wine glass carefully on the table beside his seat. “I think it best that I go.”

“He did not want to leave you in Muzillac. Would not, in fact, until the very last moment.”

“Sir.” Horatio’s voice thickened. “Please.”

“I do not wish to intrude upon your privacy and your friendship with Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Hornblower.” He smiled as Horatio stiffened. “To have such good friends is a rare and wondrous thing. To have a friend willing to…”

“I must insist you stop, Sir.” Horatio’s face was dark with torment, his eyes like the storm-tossed seas. “The official inquiry into the events of the Renown I’m sure are available for your perusal should you so desire to hear of them. I will not be your storyteller, nor will I betray…” He cut himself off and cleared his throat. “I will take my leave, my Lord.”

He bowed his head, waiting the long moment before Edrington allowed his dismissal with a nod. “A good night to you, Mr. Hornblower.”

“And to you, my Lord.”

**

“A fine morning, eh, Mr. Hornblower.” Edrington pushed back the thick velvet drape and made a small smirk at the darkened sky and spitting rain. “I fear our plans for a leisurely ride are spoiled.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall as he watched Horatio sip his coffee quietly. “Though if your skills have not improved, you may welcome the rain.”

“Rain on dry land is far preferable to rain at sea, Sir.” Horatio cleared his throat and glanced away from Edrington for a moment before looking back. “I apologize for last night, my Lord.”

“You do?” He raised an eyebrow. “And for what do you apologize, Mr. Hornblower? My atrocious behavior?”

“No, Sir. I.” Horatio sighed a laughing breath. “Mr. Kennedy’s death is still very fresh for me, my Lord. To speak of it is difficult.”

“To speak of it, or to not speak of him?” Edrington turned back to the window, freeing Horatio from his gaze. “To hear his name on the spitting tongues of those who did not know him and to refrain from informing them of who Mr. Kennedy truly was. Of what he was capable of? Of what he meant to you?”

“Archie and I were the dearest of friends,” Horatio allowed in a quiet voice. “As you know. And that is all I wish to say on the subject, my Lord.”

Edrington nodded and moved away from the window, approaching Horatio slowly, his eyes predatory. “As you wish, Mr. Hornblower.” He stopped and smiled, his expression clearing. “Shall we retire to the library and enjoy a day of literary edification as we are to be denied more physical pursuits?”

Horatio managed a tight smile that did not reach is dark eyes. “That would be most agreeable, my Lord.”

**

Edrington moved to the fire and speared one of the glowing logs with the cast iron prod, his head turned to the side to watch Horatio. “An interesting read?”

“Sadly, no.” Horatio closed the book then closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. “I fear my mind is not on my present task at all.”

“Troubled?”

Horatio’s eyes opened slowly and he pursed his lips. “You are quite persistent, are you not, my Lord?”

“I beg pardon, Mr. Hornblower. I have made no line of inquiry in regard to our earlier conversation. I was merely trying to ascertain whether or not a guest of my home was somehow not pleased by my accommodations.”

“As if anyone could be less than pleased, my Lord.” Horatio managed a smile that fell just short of a smirk. “There is nothing here that could disappoint.”

“I wonder, Mr. Hornblower, at the veracity of that statement. You seem…less than happy.”

“It is not in my nature, Sir, to be happy.”

“Perhaps not.” Edrington walked to a far cabinet and opened it to reveal a display of bottles. “But you seem far heavier hearted than you were when last our paths crossed.” He poured a health splash of amber liquid into a glass then repeated the gesture. “The rain makes a poor companion to one’s thoughts, does it not?”

“I find it is often easier to think when the rest of the world is shrouded in gray.” Horatio looked askance at the glass that Edrington offered then accepted it. “I fear that His Majesty’s allotment of rum shall never suffice again after these fine spirits.”

“Somehow I doubt that troubles you overmuch, Mr. Hornblower.” Edrington resumed his chair and took a slow sip of his drink, watching Horatio over the edge of his glass. “I had expressed a wish once to your Captain that both you and Mr. Kennedy be invited to my estate. It was unfortunate that it never came to pass.”

“I believe Mr. Kennedy would have enjoyed himself immensely at your hospitality, my Lord.”

“As you do not.” Edrington leaned forward, his elbow on his knee as he surveyed Horatio. “You fall shy of insolence and insubordination, Mr. Hornblower, but not by much, do you?” He laughed softly. “Is it inconsideration of your words and actions or merely the driving truth behind what you say and imply?” He toasted Horatio. “Never mind. It matters not. I find your company quite pleasurable, Mr. Hornblower.”

“As I do yours, my Lord.”

A smile danced along Edrington’s lips and he lifted his glass to his lips, his dark eyes never leaving Horatio’s as he drank.

**

“I begin to think, Mr. Hornblower, that your reputation as something of a teetotaler has been exaggerated.” Edrington topped off his own glass and lifted it to his lips, licking them before taking a sip of the port. “This is two nights in a row that you’ve imbibed to excess.”

“My apologies, my Lord.” Horatio pushed his glass away and sighed. “I fear I become too involved in our conversations and lose my head.”

“If only that were so.” Edrington offered a smile. “But do not stop on my account. I am an improper host for bringing the matter to your attention, especially knowing, as I do, that you have been through quite a trial…” He winced. “I apologize for my misuse of words, Mr. Hornblower. I merely meant that your year has been most traumatic.”

Horatio’s hand closed around the glass again, his thumb rubbing the faceted crystal. “There is no need for apology, my Lord, when one speaks the truth.”

“I have no wish to rub salt in anyone’s wounds, Mr. Hornblower, most especially those of yours that are still so raw.”

“At sea, my Lord, salt in the wound is inevitable.” He took a long drink from his glass, draining it. “Again though, no apology is needed, though it is appreciated.”

“And how fares Admiral Pellew? Though we spoke to arrange your invitation, we did not have time to deal with the niceties of daily life.”

“Well.” Horatio nodded. “Though he did not appreciate the sweltering heat of Kingston, I fear. He was most pleased to return to the sea.”

Edrington smiled and took another drink. His gaze moved over Horatio’s body slowly, noting the constriction of muscles in the wake of his stare. “Was Captain Sawyer buried at sea?”

Horatio’s body tightened and his jaw clenched, his eyes dark. “My Lord.”

“It is very much the elephant in the room, is it not?” Edrington laughed, his voice thick. “We must not speak of it and yet it stares at us with baleful eyes.” His gaze cut to Horatio with knife-like precision. “I merely inquire, Mr. Hornblower, because, as I said, he was a friend of my father’s.”

“I believe he was, my Lord. I was…otherwise occupied.”

“Indeed. I fear I am doing a poor job of putting you at ease, Mr. Hornblower. A most ungracious host.” He got to his feet and moved over toward the large window, leaning against the curtain as he looked out into the dark night. “I must say though, Mr. Hornblower, while I find you imminently capable of a host of hanging offences, I find it much harder to find Mr. Kennedy guilty of anything save a sharp tongue and an unwise counsel.”

“As I recall, my Lord,” Horatio’s voice is tight and controlled, the drink causing his words to slip slightly. “You did not know Mr. Kennedy all that well.”

“Did I not, Mr. Hornblower?” Edrington licked his lips then took another sip from his glass, watching Horatio’s eyes as question clouded the defiant gaze. “As you say.”

“I feel I should take my leave of you, my Lord. The drink has gone to my head and I would most regret if I were to offend.” He stood and bowed slightly. “If you will excuse me.”

“To push any man – was he in front of him, Mr. Hornblower? Or behind? Was it the heat of the moment or pure deliberation? Was it, perhaps, an order, Sir?”

“The inquisition is over, my Lord.”

“And the guilty have been punished?” Edrington smiled as Horatio stiffened. “A pity he did not live long enough to swing?”

Horatio’s jaw stiffened, anger flushing his skin, blocking the soft lilt of question in Edrington’s voice and forcing honest words from him. “I remind you, Sir, that you are speaking of my friend. I had known him since the age of 17. He was kind and more dear to me than anything else in this life, and he has had everything of value to him stripped away – his name, his rank, his honor, his duty. The only thing he was allowed to die with was dignity, and I will not allow that to be taken from him as well.”

“He retains all those things, Mr. Hornblower, for those who truly knew him.” Edrington moved over and rested his hand on Horatio’s shoulder. Horatio tensed beneath the contact, his whole body quivering with pent up emotion. Edrington leaned in and lowered his voice. “Who respected him.” His breath breezed through Horatio’s curls as he moved even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Cared for him.”

“Damn you, Sir.” Horatio’s voice shook with repressed rage. “I…”

Edrington’s fingers dug into Horatio’s shoulder and turned him. Horatio’s eyes flashed the promise of violence and he jerked away from the firm grip. “As I did.”

Horatio’s breath left him in a choked gasp and he took a step back, swallowing hard. “This is not a matter on which I will joke, Sir.”

“There is nothing going on at this moment, Mr. Hornblower,” Edrington reached out, his fingers tracing the tight, smooth line of Horatio’s jaw, “that I find a laughing matter.”

“My Lord…”

Edrington stepped closer, closing the space between them, his hand curving down to Horatio’s neck, his thumb still trailing along his jaw. “Here, in this room, between us.” He leaned in and breathed a kiss against Horatio’s lips, biting back a smile as they parted. “There is only glory and honor for Lieutenant Kennedy.”

Horatio’s body shuddered as Edrington’s mouth found his, his tongue quickly slipping past Horatio’s lips and into the heat of his mouth. Horatio groaned deep in his chest, the sound tortured as he responded, his tongue sliding along Edrington’s, tangling with it until he choked on a gasp and pulled away. Edrington smiled softly and pursued, leaning in to press soft kisses against the salt-tinged lashes of Horatio’s eyes.

“You would not align yourself to anyone without honor,” Edrington whispered softly, his hands on Horatio’s arms, his thumbs stroking the tensed muscles. “Anyone who has met you knows this.” He pulled back and offered Horatio a cocked eyebrow and a knowing smile. “And anyone who knows this knows that Mr. Kennedy was a man of more than just honor to have earned your friendship, your respect.” He reached out and brushed an errant curl from Horatio’s forehead, his fingers feeling the fevered sweat on his skin. “And more.”

Horatio’s jaw clenched and then relaxed as Edrington’s hand fell away. “I think, Mr. Hornblower, that you are in much need of rest.” He stepped back and nodded a quick acknowledging bow. “I’ll bid you good night.”  
** “Troubled, Mr. Hornblower?” Edrington moved into the library and headed directly for the low table and the port glittering a fiery auburn in the shadows of the fire. “I hope I did not wake you, my Lord.” Horatio tightened his robe around his thin frame and moved away from where he was standing above the fire, his hand curled around the edge of the mantle. “I was unable to sleep.” “Too many spirits?” Edrington raised the bottle and grabbed a second glass as Horatio nodded. “Or too many thoughts?” “My mind, I must admit, is entrenched in warfare, my lord.” Horatio walked over and accepted the glass before settling on the brocade divan. “In peace and at leisure, I fear I am best not left to my own devices. During war and aboard ship, there is always much to be done and not much time to think.” “And you prefer to think under pressure, Mr. Hornblower?” He sat opposite Horatio, settling the port on the table between them. “There is less time to consider all the consequences.” “Better to damn them and suffer as they fall?” Horatio’s gaze darkened and he turned toward the fire. “Not always, my Lord.” “I wonder, Mr. Hornblower, for all your consideration of consequences and, perhaps, alternate routes of hindsight, you do not fail to see what is directly in front of you.” He leaned in and topped off Horatio’s glass, careful to fill his line of sight. “What you hold for Mr. Kennedy is admirable…” “I do not wish to speak of Mr. Kennedy.” “Do not pretend, Mr. Hornblower, that we have spoken of anything else.” Edrington leaned back and took a sip from his glass, his eyes trained on Horatio. “You do not speak of him to anyone. You will not speak against him, so you hold your tongue at all costs. And yet, Mr. Kennedy, to my knowledge, chose to make his confession before his death under no duress.” “Save the thought of my neck in the noose.” Horatio’s flat statement earned a nod from Edrington. “However, I think you do him a great disservice to presume that his choice was merely to save you, Mr. Hornblower. Perhaps, though I would never condone such actions, Mr. Kennedy was also making a stand to prove what was done was the proper course of action. What you and the other Lieutenants took a stand against was worth standing up for.” He took another drink and then turned his gaze on Horatio. “Unless you do not maintain the mutiny was just? That Mr. Kennedy deserved to swing?” “You overstep your bounds, my Lord.” “Do I, Mr. Hornblower? Or do I merely ask the questions you should be asking yourself?” He finished his drink and set his glass next to the decanter. “Mr. Kennedy, as I see it, gave you a great gift and you have squandered it.” “How dare you…” “I dare, Mr. Hornblower, because I have seen men hang.” He stood and looked down at Horatio, haughty and indignant in the face of the younger man’s outrage. “And I have seen men die. How do you repay the gift of life, Mr. Hornblower? The gift of unsullied honor? How do you repay the great debt you owe Mr. Kennedy?” He huffed a disgusted bark of laughter. “Goodnight, Mr. Hornblower. I hope your troubled mind finds its rest.” ** Edrington opened his door, rubbing the back of his neck sleepily. His eyes widened and he blinked rapidly, coming fully awake. “Mr. Hornblower.” Horatio’s eyes were dark and haunted. “How do you repay such a gift, my Lord? How do you atone for the sin of pride that allows you to let someone else die for your honor?” “By not suffering from the sin of pride.” Edrington reached out and caught Horatio’s arm, steering him into the suite and shutting the door behind them. “You are caught in an undertow, Mr. Hornblower. Mr. Kennedy died for what he believed in – whether that be Captain Sawyer’s unfitness for duty, your blasted mutiny or you. He stood by his choice with honor and dignity. You did not make that decision for him, and to suggest otherwise is the height of arrogance.” He led Horatio to the chaise lounge and sat him down, settling on the burgundy cushion beside him. “Allow Mr. Kennedy his sacrifice and leave it lay.” “He was.” Horatio stopped and pressed his lips together, the muscles of his jaw moving with every tight clench as he fought words and emotions. “My dearest…” Edrington reached over and stroked the smooth flesh of Horatio’s jaw, turning him to face him. “I know. And there is no question to my mind that Mr. Kennedy knew it as well.” He pressed the back of his hand against Horatio’s smooth lips for a moment before turning it, letting his thumb trace the fleshy curve. “Mr. Hornblower?” “My…” Horatio’s breath shuddered as Edrington’s thumb applied pressure, parting his lips further. Horatio licked them and swallowed hard. “My Lord?” Pushing his thumb into Horatio’s open mouth, Edrington leaned in and pressed his lips against his ear. “Mr. Kennedy wanted you to live. To go on to further glory. To breathe. To love.” His teeth grazed Horatio’s earlobe, the sensation causing his mouth to close around Edrington’s thumb, his teeth and tongue asserting tentative pressure. “I do not think Mr. Kennedy would deny you love.” Horatio’s harsh gasps echoed through the room as he fought down emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Edrington smoothed his hand along Horatio’s back, feeling the tight coil of muscle and tension beneath his hand as he nipped to taut flesh of Horatio’s neck. His tongue teased after each quick pinch of teeth, and he felt Horatio shiver. Edrington pulled away, getting to his feet and reaching for Horatio’s hand. He grasped it firmly, refusing to allow him resistance as he tugged him gently toward the bed. Horatio’s eyes darted from the rumpled coverlets to Edrington and back again, apprehension darkening in his eyes. “Do you dare trust again, Mr. Hornblower?” He steered him against the mattress, not pressing forward as Horatio’s legs came in contact with the bed. “I have not let you down yet, have I?” “No,” Horatio swallowed. “No, my Lord.” Edrington smiled, allowing just a hint of knowing desire to flash his intention to Horatio. “I will not do so now.” His hands moved to Horatio’s waist to unfasten the tie of his long robe, parting it to reveal breeches and a simple shirt. Edrington laughed softly. “You do not make anything easy, do you, Mr. Hornblower?” “It is not my intention, my Lord, to be difficult.” His eyes followed Edrington’s hands as they trailed over the front placket of his breeches, brushing over the buttons. “My nature, perhaps, but not my intention.” Edrington laughed aloud and moved in, capturing Horatio’s mouth in a quick, hot kiss. His tongue caught Horatio’s and he sucked hard at it before releasing him, both of them breathing rapidly as they parted. “I must admit,” Edrington sly words were edged with meaning, “that I do enjoy a challenge. Please, Mr. Hornblower,” his hand skated over the placket again before he fixed his fingers around one of the gold buttons, “do make things hard.” Horatio’s hips jerked and he licked his lips, catching a rough breath. “As you will, my Lord.” The low, throaty chuckle brushed over Horatio’s lips as Edrington nimbly unfastened the buttons, pushing fabric aside to find the hard length of Horatio’s cock. “Yes, Mr. Hornblower. As I will indeed.” Horatio’s hands grasped at the silk of Edrington’s dressing gown at the contact, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Pressing forward, Edrington placed one knee on the bed beside Horatio and guided him down onto the mattress, his fingers stroking lightly along Horatio’s shaft. Horatio stared at the movement before lifting his eyes to Edrington’s. His jaw twitched with tension and he raised his head higher. “Lie back, Mr. Hornblower.” Edrington removed his hand, watching Horatio’s body as the contact ended. Dark, defiant eyes stared back at him for a long moment before Horatio pulled himself farther onto the bed, the mess of his breeches pooling around his knees. Edrington gripped the fabric and eased it off of him, dragging underclothes and stockings along to the floor. Shrugging off his dressing gown, Edrington let it join the pile of Horatio’s clothes before sliding his hand along Horatio’s thigh. The muscles beneath the skin bunched and tensed, and he smiled, letting his hand trail higher, beneath the thin linen of Horatio’s shirt. Horatio’s cock responded as Edrington’s hand brushed the base of hit, fingers feathering through the dusting of hair that surrounded the shaft. Horatio’s chest rose and fell on a rapid breath as Edrington wrapped his long, smooth fingers around the hard flesh, not moving until, biting back a low moan, Horatio thrust his hips upward against his hand. With a quiet sigh, Edrington began moving his hand, smoothing his palm along the heated skin, his fingers holding Horatio loosely. The younger man quivered, his hands clenching in the rumpled covers as he bit his lower lip, his eyes locked on Edrington’s. Fighting the urge to smile, Edrington tightened his grip, focusing his attentions, for a moment, on the slick flesh at the head of Horatio’s cock, pulling the foreskin back before bending his head to blow a gentle breath across it. Horatio’s hips rose, his body arching off the bed in abandon. Edrington eased his grip slightly as he leaned forward, holding Horatio’s gaze. His lashes lowered as he watched the flush stain Horatio’s skin. His tongue darting out, Edrington moved closer still, brushing a kiss across Horatio’s dry, parted lips as his free hand drew open the drawer of his bedside table. Horatio turned his head, watching as Edrington freed a small stoppered vial and lay it beside Horatio on the bed. He stilled his hand and released Horatio, unable to keep from smiling at the pained gasp. With quick but careful movements, he nudged Horatio’s legs apart and climbed between them, his own breath coming in hurried unison with Horatio’s. Edrington opened the vial and poured a measure of it onto his fingers, a few drops of the slick oil painting Horatio’s thigh. He hissed at the contact as though burned, sensation flaring in his eyes. Replacing the cork carefully, Edrington set the small bottle aside and lowered his hand, tracing his fingers over the sensitive skin between Horatio’s cock and the tight ring of muscle beneath it. He circled the puckered flesh, his lips parted, his breath loud in the silence of the room. With careful precision, he pressed one finger to the tightness and pushed gently, his gaze immediately going to Horatio’s, locking on the wide, dark eyes. “There you are, Mr. Hornblower,” he breathed before wrapping his free hand around Horatio’s cock once more. Horatio’s body shuddered violently as Edrington began stroking him in earnest, every careful movement of his hand timed to match the thrust of his fingers. He edged a second finger past the rigid tension of Horatio’s body, curling them slightly and watching with heated satisfaction as Horatio’s hips rose from the bed again. Horatio hands struggled amidst the covers, clenching and unclenching in the downy cloth. His jaw tightened in a show of restraint that shattered as his mouth opened, his breath leaving him in a rush as Edrington added a third slick finger inside him, thrusting harder and deeper, echoing the increasing speed of his hand as he pumped the rigid flesh of Horatio’s cock. Horatio trembled, his heels pushing against the bed on either side of Edrington as he reached out, his fingers digging through the thin fabric of Edrington’s night shirt to his flesh as he lost control, his lips parted on a gasping “My Lord.” Edrington’s body coiled in, his shoulders rolling forward as Horatio spent himself. Freeing his fingers quickly, he fumbled one-handed with the bottle, nearly upending it on the bed as he managed to free the small cork, pouring it over his rigid shaft with no heed to the excess flowing down onto his sheets. He released Horatio’s cock to stroke his own, coating it, before guiding it against the Horatio’s aperture. He pushed forward, his sigh of relief caught on a groan as the tight heat of Horatio’s body closed around him, tremors of his climax still shaking his body and grasping at Edrington’s. He caught himself above Horatio, his muscles tense and trembling as he supported himself, watching the slow burn of satiation work its way through Horatio’s body. Barely breathing, Edrington pushed his thrust deeper, closing his eyes as Horatio gasped beneath him, his body constricting as every stroke was met with thick resistance for a brief moment before the slick skin gave way to the heated friction of the oil. Edrington loosed a groan within his chest as Horatio’s body shifted, allowing him to push even deeper. Opening his eyes, he watched as the dark of Horatio’s came alive and his hips rocked upward, their bodies colliding as Edrington lost control, jerking roughly as he spilled himself inside Horatio. ** Edrington carefully eased himself free of Horatio’s body and stretched out on the bed beside him, propping his head on one hand and looking down at the younger man. Horatio’s body still shook with reaction, his eyes closed, his expression a wary mix of exhaustion and relief. He stirred and Edrington reached out, resting his hand lightly on the flat plane of Horatio’s stomach. “I know you too well, Mr. Hornblower, to allow you such easy escape.” Horatio turned his head and opened his eyes, emotion carefully absent after a quick flash of anger. He started to say something, the words cut off by a quick shake of Edrington’s head. “You would not want to offend your host, would you?” His jaw tightened as he warred silently with himself, then he finally gave a faint nod. “No, my Lord.” “Then rest.” Edrington removed his hand and lifted it to hide the ghost of a yawn. “Morning is a long time coming, Mr. Hornblower.” Horatio stifled his own yawn in the wake of Edrington’s and he reached up to rub his eyes. “Thank you, my Lord.” Edrington laughed softly and stretched the arm supporting his head out, laying fully on the mattress and pressing a gentle kiss on the curve of Horatio’s shoulder. “I would insist that the pleasure was all mine, Mr. Hornblower, but I do not think myself such a greedy lover as that.” He looked to Horatio’s eyes quickly enough to see the shock register with his words. “Sleep, Mr. Hornblower.” Horatio nodded finally and closed his eyes; dark lashes painting his pale face. Edrington watched with rapt fascination as the man slowly surrendered, his body loosening and lengthening as his muscles relaxed. Lifting himself up, Edrington brushed his fingertips across Horatio’s cheek then settled back on the bed, allowing the soft rhythm of Horatio’s breathing to lure him to sleep. ** Edrington awoke slowly, the faint sun shimmering through the curtains and flickering across the bed, stretching warm fingers across Horatio and on to Edrington’s skin. He lifted himself up again, his eyes roaming over the mixture of pale and dark skin, the deceptively fragile thinness. Horatio opened his eyes and met Edrington’s, heat and embarrassment darkening the deep brown. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with nervousness. “My Lord.” “Perhaps one day we can endeavor to learn one another’s proper names and use them, eh, Mr. Hornblower?” He reached out and touched Horatio’s chest with light fingers, rubbing gently along the path of his sternum. “You slept well?” “I did, my Lord.” He managed a smile, though his eyes continued to dart down to Edrington’s hand. “Far better, I think, than I deserve.” Edrington loosed a quick bite of laughter and shook his head. “Did you not listen to anything that was said last night, Mr. Hornblower?” He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, hiding his smile as Horatio followed his movement and copied his earlier posture, staring down at Edrington. “Do not be so arrogant as to again assume the mantle you laid down last night, Mr. Hornblower. You would do a great disservice to all should you be so stubborn.” “I have long held the guilt for the events of the Renown, my Lord, and for Mr. Kennedy’s death.” He paused for a long moment and Edrington turned his head to look at him, reaching up to brush a thumb over Horatio’s lips. “One night will not change that.” “Two nights of my company, Mr. Hornblower,” Edrington reminded him with a smile. “And I do not seek to alleviate your guilt for what happened aboard the Renown. No man who commits mutiny should ever be allowed to sleep without the uncertainty and doubt that such action would cause.” Horatio frowned and Edrington raised an eyebrow. “But you do not need me to tell you that. The choices you made are not ones you made lightly, and I do not hesitate to guess that you constantly review the circumstances in your mind and search out other courses of action, other consequences.” Horatio inhaled and suppressed the exhaled sigh. “Am I so obvious as that, my Lord?” “To any man that knows the depth of your honor and the weight of your duty, Mr. Hornblower? Yes.” He sat up then got to his feet, pulling Horatio’s shirt from the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed and tossing it to him. “But what is not clear, save to those who knew him, is that you are as devoted to Mr. Kennedy as he clearly was to you.” He sat on the edge of the bed as Horatio pulled his shirt over his head, his hair spilling from the dark ribbon that held his queue. Edrington leaned forward and grabbed it, pulling it free from Horatio’s hair. “I did not know him long or nearly as well as I would have liked, but I do know that he admired you.” “We were…” “Let him rest in peace, Mr. Hornblower.” He wound the ribbon around his fingers slowly, Horatio’s eyes following the movement before lifting to Edrington’s eyes. “It is no less than he deserves.” “No one knows of…what he sacrificed. What he did. Who he was.” “There are those who know, Mr. Hornblower. And even if all the others who knew of Mr. Kennedy were to forget him,” he freed the ribbon from his fingers and held it out to Horatio. “You would not. And that, Mr. Hornblower, is memorial enough for any man.” ** “My Lord?” Edrington raised an eyebrow in response as Horatio settled into the carriage. “Mr. Hornblower?” “I do not wish to sound insincere in my appreciation for your company and this respite, but…” “Ah.” Edrington nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. “You wish to know why.” “If it would please you.” “You can thank your Admiral Pellew, Mr. Hornblower. He despairs after you, I think, worried that you are too much in your head and not enough in the world.” He dropped his gaze to Horatio’s hands, so still, so proper. “He ask that I endeavor to bring you back into your eyes, Commander.” Horatio’s gaze shot up and Edrington lifted his slowly to meet it. “Though he left the manner of persuasion up to me.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my Lord.” “Everything you are as a man, Mr. Hornblower,” Edrington leaned in closer to the carriage, affording them a deeper measure of privacy, “is there in your eyes. Your devotion, your duty, your honor, your intelligence, your unbendable will, your affection, your pain. Since Mr. Kennedy’s death, I fear, there has been nothing there.” “And now?” “And now, Mr. Hornblower, you are there again, though not quite the same. You cannot lose a dear friend and not suffer for it. Perhaps you more so than most.” He reached in and rested his hand lightly on Horatio’s. “Even if they had the power to take his honor from him, Mr. Hornblower, you give it back hundredfold.” Horatio straightened, his neck stiff, his jaw tight. “Thank you, my Lord.” Edrington offered a quick nod as he pulled back, his smile tinged with bittersweet. “Fair winds.” He closed the carriage door and nodded to the coachman, watching long after it had disappeared around the bend and the clatter of wheels and hooves had died. “Horatio.”


End file.
